July 2nd excerpt:
Sherlock’s comment demanded a response. Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “Everything you do is faster than me, obviously,” he griped, throwing Sherlock’s favorite word right back at him. “Doesn’t mean you gotta rub it in all the time.”
July 1st excerpt:
Stan blinked quickly as he watched Dean step on, and it took him a few seconds to remember to breathe. For all his bluster and readiness to boss around people much taller than him, it was easy to forget just how small Dean was. His every movement, every shift of his minuscule weight, tickled Stan’s palm, and it was all he could do to keep perfectly still. In such a precarious position, Stan certainly didn’t want to knock Dean over with a twitch.
June 30th excerpt:
Breathing deeply as he sank into the armchair adjacent to the bookshelf, Stan hesitantly copied Dean’s hand position and moved it closer to the smaller man like a platform. “Don’t worry, I keep clean hands,” he quipped to hide his anxiety behind a smirk.
“Good, ‘cause the last thing I want is to end up smelling like Cheese Curls,” Dean quipped back, hiding his nerves the same as Stan, aided by the fact that his face, so much smaller than the others, was much harder to read. Thus far, he’d only ever allowed Sherlock and John to hold him.
June 29th excerpt:
In annoyance, the little guy stormed out into plain sight. His leather jacket was hastily thrown on and his duffel bag hung askew, and he was glaring right at Sherlock when he came out into the light.
“You know, I’m right there, like two feet away,” Dean complained. “You’re gonna wake the dead one of these days, and the last thing we need to deal with is any vengeful spirits knocking on our doors along with all the rest of the problems going on.”
June 28th excerpt:
Stan scratched at the back of his neck, a little hesitant. “Actually, sir, I was rather hoping to discuss this with Dean as well–”
“Dean! ” Sherlock called to the seemingly empty room, knowing the smaller man would hear. Then he snatched a chair from the end table against the wall and placed it across from the fireplace, indicating that Stan should sit as he dropped into his own chair. Bemused, Stan did just that, laying his coat over the back of it before taking a seat, folding his hands in his lap while he waited.
June 27th excerpt:
A few scattered projects surrounded Dean’s nest, though Moira couldn’t tell what any of them were or would become. He was always so crafty, in a way that not many others could match even after years of practice. It was like Dean had learned secrets they didn’t have access to, and not for the first time Moira wondered at the secrets her brothers kept after so many years of knowing them.
She knelt by Dean’s side, pushing his shoulder. “Dean,” she whispered, keeping her voice as low as possible to avoid waking Sam.
He groaned, trying to roll away from her touch. Since he was tucked into a corner, there was nowhere else for him to go, and his eyes squinted open in annoyance. “What?” he griped, rubbing his eyes.
June 26th excerpt:
The younger Winchester was sitting in a corner, his lap once more covered in the scattered papers that made up his journal. He wasn’t writing in them at the moment, but instead carefully reading through. As Dean watched, Sam brushed his hand reverentially down one to smooth the wrinkles on it, then set it to the side.
After a moment’s consideration, Dean left the box of raisins against the wall, giving it an ‘accidental’ kick for the way it tripped him up multiple times in the cupboard. At this rate, neither of the humans in the flat would think he could slip around undetected.
Damn box. At least raisins lasted forever.
June 25th excerpt:
When he turned to leave, he nearly tripped over the box of raisins again, catching his balance against the friggin’ crackers with his free hand with a strangled curse. Giving the raisins a look that accused them of sabotaging any hope he had of being ninja for the day, Dean scooped up the box before he headed for the walls and home.
June 24th excerpt:
“You okay?” John called softly, opening the door a crack to peer in at the small person within.
Caught off guard by the unexpected flood of light, Dean stumbled to his feet, one arm half-raised in defense with his other hand diving for his knife. Years of instincts developed from his current size had combined with the wariness he’d learned from his father, putting him constantly on edge and ready to act at a moment’s notice.
Realizing who was there, Dean’s eyes narrowed and he felt the tension leave his back. It was just John, and he meant well, despite how startling he could be.
June 23rd excerpt:
In the cupboard, Dean slowly went through the new boxes John had brought home, wishing one or two of them was open or even just on the side. He finally decided to give climbing the new box of crackers a try; he just had to get his arm and knife in to tear a hole in the wrapper and get some food. Later on he could make a run for fresher food after the humans had their dinner.
Of course, Dean’s run of bad luck continued when he knocked over a small box of raisins trying to climb the bigger box.
“Sonovabitch!”
Brothers Apart 